Pleasing the Public Part 1
by Mr. BramStoker
Summary: The JLA gets their wishes of being in the spotlight granted thanks to the charm, smooth persuasion and weird one-liners from a certain demented author namely me. AU.


Pleasing the Public

Note: This idea came from Persian13 so I thought of gently copying his humor and not offending any Justice League or Avengers characters whatsoever. That said, on with the story!

It was a quiet Tuesday evening as the author sat in his office onboard the Watchtower, sipping a cup of mocha coffee

**Ah, this is the life. Coffee, quality food… Black Canary sleeping on my sofa.**

Indeed, the lovely femme fatale was snoozing away on said author's velvet sofa. Her light blonde hair dangled, her soft snores echoed lightly, and a bit of drool forming on her lip. She muttered something in her sleep before turning over.

**Man, what I wouldn't give to have a night with her… giggity**

"Excuse me, Mr. Stoker? Can I borrow a word with you?" Hippolyta asked kindly as the almighty Queen of the Amazons entered looking lovely as usual

**Oh but of course, dahling! Mi casa es su casa. Tell me, sweetie, what's on your elegant mind?**

"Do you think you can arrange me a few spots in your stories? I find the interpretation of my daughter to be very well fitting to our culture." Hippolyta commented, batting her gorgeous eyelashes

**No problem. Oh and you might be happy to know that I finally booted those lecherous perverts out of your throne room earlier. They wont be coming here that's for sure.**

"STOKER! WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!" Deathstroke hollered, bursting in with a crazed look before hammily shouting "YOU!"

**Oh joy, if it isn't Mr. I Like Killing Heroes and Getting Paid for It. Look Wilson, I told you a million times, NO, I will NOT, repeat, NOT make a story of you having a fling with Cheetara and that's FINAL! Now what is it? I'm very busy at the moment**

"You've got a lot of nerve making that idea of letting Joker get killed by that freak with no head." Deathstroke snarled

**Watch it Slade! Say one more insult about my bodyguard, maybe it'll be YOU next. Unless you want me to show your wife what you did to poor, poor Blackfire…**

"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! DON'T!" Deathstroke wailed, begging on his knees, pathetically kissing the author's feet. Suddenly, a large piano flattened the miserable mercenary.

**Thank you Dinah, I couldn't take that asshole's whining any longer. So Hippolyta, about our contract for that salon in Themysciera…**

"GET BACK HERE, YOU TWO-TIMING, SEXIST SWINE!" Spoiler screamed, cackling maniacally as she chased Robin with a large burning torch.

"Uh… what's up with her?" Dinah asked, hinting Spoiler

**Honey, I have no idea. Ever since that War Games incident, she's flipped her lid. Y'know, like what happened to Hatter before I had Ghost Rider shut him up?**

"Technically, you let him burn Mad Hatter with his chain." Flash added

**Yes, but he deserved it. And I found it amusing. Now, if I can have everyone's attention… that means you, Stephanie! And please drop the torch or I'll have to get the hose again!**

"This better be good, Stoker. I do **not** approve of your killing of Joker." Batman grimly smirked, the author rolling his eyes

**oh Lordy Lord, what am I to do? Ok, now as you all know, this month marks the annual Play offs. So, I am planning… a rip off of the X Factor!**

"Isnt that Marvel?" Roy asked stupidly. Huntress smacked him up the head. "It's the reality song show, you moron!"

**Thank you Helena. Yes it is the same as the FOX show. Now the judges are as follows… Zatanna,**

"Yes! Finally I get the jackpot!" Zatanna cheered, showing off her… revealing lemons. Hehehe

**Yes you do. Next, Hippolyta…**

"Praise the Amazons! My time has come!" Hippolyta boasted, taking a dramatic pose, a'la Xena Warrior Princess style

**Next, Lady Blackhawk…**

"All right, now you're talking my language, handsome!" Blackhawk purred, planting a large smooch on the author

**Oh yeah, that's more like it. And finally… oh this'll be good… Batman**

"What?" Bats asked gruffly

**You will be the DC version of Simon Cowell, only less on the grumpy sourbag sort. Any questions?**

"Uh, when do we start?" Dinah asked tiredly, yawning

**Tomorrow morning, first thing, 8 am sharp! Don't be late! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to mark arrangements with my clients from Coruscant**

End of One Shot


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